The Magelands Epic: Soulwitch Rises (Book 7)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘See?’ she said. ‘Now that’s a good question. That’s the sort of question you should be asking the commanders and politicians here, instead of appearing like a spoiled and surly boy when you meet with them. Right, it’s time to be heading back to the Old Town.’ She took the bottle of whisky from his hand, re-corked it and stowed it in her pack.

  ‘I’m not spoiled.’

  She walked towards the far edge of the platform. ‘If you want to be a leader,’ she said, turning to him as she gripped the top of the ladder, ‘then act like one. If you want to be a grown-up, then... the same. Act like one.’

  He frowned as she disappeared from view down the ladder. He didn’t act spoiled in front of the governor, did he? And he hated it when she called him a boy. Was he ambitious? What did that mean? He had always felt he was destined to rise to the top, but mostly through a form of inheritance. His parents were celebrated, and known to many; his father a slain hero, and his mother the ruler of the richest and most advanced province of the empire. Expectation had been heaped upon his shoulders for as long as he could remember, so long he had never really felt its weight.

  ‘Come on!’ he heard the sergeant call from the bottom of the ladder.

  His sister stood by the Empress’s side, he thought, gathering for herself a position of power and influence that shone in his mind like a beacon; showing him what could be achieved. He envied Karalyn, he realised, and wanted to emulate her; no, he wanted to out-do her. If she could climb to such heights, then what could he do?

  An hour later, after traversing the Outer City in a wagon, Keir and the sergeant arrived at the headquarters of the Rainsby garrison. Their escort of two dozen marines had flanked them the entire way, trooping alongside. The streets of the Outer City had been cleared of debris, but the majority of buildings were gutted ruins; blackened from fire damage, or shattered by the year-long Rahain bombardment. The Old Town was unblemished in comparison, its roads and houses untroubled by the enemy artillery. As the wagon pulled into the forecourt of the headquarters, the sergeant gave Keir some mint leaves to chew, to hide the odour of smoke and gin on his breath. The command centre of the army was the largest building in Rainsby; a fortified bastion, with a wide, dry moat, and high defences. It sat astride the walls, half inside the Old Town, and half inside the cavalry grounds that lay to the west.

  The wagon came to a halt, and the sergeant jumped down, followed by Keir. Their marine escort formed up around them, and they walked up to the grand entrance to the fortress-headquarters. Stone walls ten-feet thick surrounded the large complex of barracks, towers and army offices, and batteries of catapults and ballistae stood ready at each corner of the fortress. They crossed the bridge over the moat and entered the headquarters through a massive gateway, flanked on either side by the highest towers in the city. The marines remained by the gates and Keir walked on with only the sergeant by his side. Soldiers saluted him as they passed the barracks blocks closest to the gatehouse, then they went under an archway and entered the great hall.

  The Governor of Rainsby had his residence in a different part of the town, but spent a good portion of each day with his military commanders within the fortress. A sentry escorted Keir and the sergeant to an upper storey and led them to the grand chamber where the governor was sitting at a long table, with officers from the navy, army, marines and cavalry present. They glanced up as Keir approached.

  ‘Mage,’ said the governor. ‘Good morning.’

  Keir could see the condescending looks directed his way from many in the room. They usually annoyed him to the point of recalcitrance, but he remembered what the sergeant had told him.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ said Keir. ‘I hope you are well.’

  A few looked surprised.

  ‘Very well, thank you,’ said the governor. ‘Do you have a report for us?’

  ‘I do. The Great Tunnel remains clear of any reinforcements, and there was no sign of the new army between there and the Rahain encampment twelve miles to the south of us.’

  ‘Good,’ said the governor. ‘Every day of enemy inaction buys us more time to rebuild the defences of the town.’

  ‘I worry about the western approaches,’ said the general in charge of the cavalry regiments. ‘What if the Rahain know we are watching the tunnel, and decide to go the long way round the Grey Mountains?’

  Keir resisted the urge to respond sarcastically. The long way round? What a stupid notion.

  ‘Would you like me to check?’ he said. ‘I can routinely scan the roads in that direction as well as those south.’

  The governor raised an eyebrow. ‘That would be very useful, mage, thank you.’

  Keir nodded. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

  He laughed on the inside at the astonished faces of those present. Maybe the sergeant was right; complaining got him nowhere, and his usual grunts or monosyllabic responses only served to prove to them that he was still a child.

  ‘See you at the same time tomorrow, mage,’ the governor said, ‘and enjoy the rest of your day.’

  ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I was hoping to put in a few hours of work with my charger on the regimental training grounds.’ He turned to the cavalry commander. ‘With your permission, of course.’

  The officer stared at him for a moment. ‘Certainly; no problem at all.’

  Keir smiled. ‘Thank you. Tomorrow, then.’

  He turned to leave, the sergeant by his side. A sentry opened the door for them and they stepped outside into the corridor. The sergeant began to laugh as soon as the door was closed behind them.

  ‘Did you like that?’ Keir said, beaming.

  ‘They’ll be wondering what’s happened to the real Keir Holdfast. You were great in there. I thought you were going to tell him to fuck off when he asked you to look west as well, but you took it in your stride.’

  ‘Yeah, being polite is a good trick.’

  A scout appeared at the end of the corridor, running towards the door. Keir and the sergeant moved aside to let her pass, and she hurried into the command room.

  ‘Wonder what that’s about,’ said the sergeant.

  ‘Who cares?’ said Keir. ‘Let’s go and see Monty.’

  The sergeant shrugged and they began walking to the stairs. As they reached the upper landing, the door behind them opened and the scout re-emerged.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said the sergeant as the scout approached.

  The scout eyed them, then checked no one else was on the stairs. ‘Ship’s arrived from Stretton Sands. Guess who’s on board.’

  ‘Not Thorn?’ said the sergeant.

  ‘Got it in one, though you didn’t hear it from me.’

  ‘Is she coming here to see the governor?’

  The scout shook her head. ‘Says she won’t get off the boat until they come down to the harbour to escort her.’

  ‘And what did they say?’

  ‘Well, they didn’t like it, not one bit. The governor said that he doesn’t take orders from a hedgewitch, but they’ve got no choice if you ask me. The harbour’s already filling up with folk, desperate to catch a glimpse of the Queen of Stretton Sands. They’ll have to come down eventually. Anyway, I’d better go, I have to tell her ladyship the news.’

  The sergeant nodded as the scout ran down the stairs. She turned to Keir.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Forget the horse, let’s get our arses down to the harbour. It’s time to meet Thorn.’

  The wharves were packed with people by the time their carriage passed through the harbour gate. Their driver pulled over to the side to allow Keir and the sergeant to disembark, their escort of marines clearing a path for them through the gathering crowds. Keir had wanted to travel via Madden’s Tower to collect Kelsey, but the sergeant insisted that they get to the ship before the governor or any of the senior commanders reached the harbour.

  ‘I thought you’d already met her,’ he said to the sergeant as they walked though the busy quayside.

&n
bsp; ‘Seen her, aye; met her, no,’ the sergeant said, ‘and that was just in passing. I helped some injured soldiers get to the old hospital one night, and saw the hedgewitches at work, back when there were six of them here. It was a sore day for the town when she and the others were abducted by that bastard fire mage; there will be a lot of folk happy to see her back.’

  ‘What was she like?’

  The sergeant shrugged. ‘They were all pretty much covered in blood and gore at the time. There were a few young hedgewitches, and I know Thorn was one of them, but I’m not sure which.’

  The crowds thickened, and Keir caught sight of a large warship berthed at the side of the wharf. Marines were guarding the gangway that led up to the deck, and more were on board. Multitudes of people were gazing at the ship, pointing and talking; and several were trying to persuade the guards to let them on board, but they were refusing entry to everyone. Keir and the sergeant pushed their way to the front, and a rumble of recognition swept over the crowd, along with a few cries of ‘the stormwitch!’.

  The sergeant nodded at the marines on duty by the edge of the wooden gangway. ‘Is Mage Thorn aboard?’

  ‘Aye,’ said one of the marines. ‘Who’s asking?’

  She gestured at Keir. ‘The stormwitch.’

  The marines glanced at him.

  ‘May I come aboard?’ he said. ‘I wish to greet the champion of Stretton Sands and welcome her back to Rainsby.’

  An officer stepped forward from the group of marines. ‘Where’s the governor?’

  ‘Coming,’ said the sergeant, ‘but he may be a while.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘This is Sergeant Demi, my personal guard,’ said Keir. ‘Where I go, she goes.’

  ‘Alright,’ the officer said. ‘You two have permission to board. Come with me.’

  The crowd let out a roar as they watched Keir step onto the gangway. He turned to wave at them, then walked up the ramp and onto the deck of the ship. Groups of armoured marines stared as the officer led them towards the stern.

  ‘Wait here,’ said the officer as they reached a door. The officer opened it and went through, leaving Keir and the sergeant standing on the deck.

  ‘This is the biggest ship I’ve ever seen,’ Keir said.

  ‘Imperial ship-of-the-line,’ said the sergeant. ‘There’s only ten of them. Thorn’s travelling in style.’

  Keir glanced at the sky. ‘Turning into a nice day.’

  The sergeant raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this what you want to talk about; boats and the weather? What’s the matter with you? Hang on – are you nervous?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘My, this is amusing. I’ve seen the way you speak to the young ladies around town, and “nervous” is not a word I would use to describe your behaviour. Cocky, forward, confident; aye, you’re those, and more.’

  ‘I’m not nervous.’

  ‘Are you sweating?’

  ‘It’s warm.’

  ‘Come on, you’re from the Holdings. Are you not forever going on about how Holdfast is practically in the desert?’

  Keir turned away, his heart pounding. The sergeant was right, his nerves were raw at the thought of meeting Thorn. He blamed his sister; she had built it up into something, filling his head with thoughts of fate and destiny. Damn her stupid prophecies.

  The door opened and the scout from the army headquarters came out onto the deck. She noticed Keir and the sergeant.

  ‘You were quick getting here,’ she said.

  The sergeant smiled. ‘Anything we should know before we go in?’

  The scout shrugged. ‘I thought Mage Thorn would be angry with the news that the governor is refusing to come down to the harbour, but she seemed to expect it. I’m to go back and tell him that she won’t be leaving the ship until he and the rest of the command do her the honour of giving her a proper welcome.’

  The scout turned, distracted by the sight of the huge crowd waiting on the quayside.

  ‘Shit,’ she said. ‘Looks like half the town’s here.’

  The sergeant nudged her. ‘Make sure you mention to the governor that the stormwitch is on board the ship. That might shake them into coming.’

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Will do.’

  The scout hurried away, making for the gangway. Keir began to pace the deck, trying to think of what his first words to Thorn should be. He knew what to do – go straight into her mind the moment their eyes first met, find something he could use, and charm her with what would appear to be a keen insight into her character. He had done so many times in the past with the girls he had dated, and it had always worked. He felt his confidence start to rise. He could do this.

  The door opened again, and the officer reappeared. ‘Mage Thorn shall see you now.’

  The sergeant nodded at Keir, and they followed the officer into a hallway and down a narrow flight of stairs. They went along a passageway and came to a door that was guarded by two of the largest marines Keir had ever seen. They stared at him, then opened the door. The officer gestured to Keir, and he stepped through the entrance and into a large wooden chamber, with round windows down each side. Marines lined the walls, and stood to either side of an elevated platform. Acorn was standing on the platform next to an ornate chair, or throne, Keir thought. Sitting there was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and his mouth opened. The woman was dressed in long, flowing robes of differing hues of blue, and bore a slender silver band on her head, with a bright sapphire in the centre.

  She smiled at him.

  He stood in front of her, his tongue frozen to the inside of his mouth.

  His vision, he thought, use it. He caught her gaze and sent his powers towards her, but when his vision reached her eyes it was blocked by a powerful barrier, and he almost stumbled back in shock. Someone had blocked her mind, preventing him from reading her. His damn sister, it had to be.

  The silence in the room continued, and Keir felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back.

  The sergeant stepped alongside him. ‘My lady,’ she said, bowing, ‘may I present Keir Holdfast, the Stormwitch of Rainsby.’ She turned to Keir. ‘Say something,’ she hissed in his ear.

  Keir bowed, feeling like the clumsy fourteen-year-old of his youth. His mind was spinning, and the warmth of the chamber was making him perspire. Why was it so damn hot? He had to say something soon, or everyone would think he was an idiot, but his words had all dried up. Anything would do, even a simple ‘welcome to Rainsby’.

  ‘W.. w.. wel…,’ he stuttered, wishing he could die on the spot.

  Thorn kept her gaze on him, her features serene, though her smile seemed a little forced. It reminded him of the way girls had looked at him before he had grown in size and confidence, with a slight air of pity and disappointment.

  ‘W… w… welcome to Rainsby,’ he got out finally, lowering his eyes to the carpeted floor.

  ‘Thank you, Lord Stormwitch,’ Thorn said, her Sanang accent making the words seem melodious to his ears. He glanced back up at her. ‘You honour me by being the first to greet me upon my return to this town.’ She glanced at Acorn and smiled again, a real smile of happiness. ‘Apart from my sister, of course. After what happened to our family, my joy at seeing her again is unbounded.’ She turned back to Keir. ‘She tells me that you have been living in my old quarters in Madden’s Tower. She also tells me that you and your sister Kelsey have been good friends to her since your arrival, and for that you have my sincere gratitude.’

  Keir bowed again, not trusting his mouth to work properly.

  ‘We have much to discuss,’ Thorn went on, ‘but that can wait for another time. I hear that quite a crowd has gathered in the harbour.’

  ‘Thousands,’ said the sergeant. ‘All hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous Queen of Stretton Sands.’

  Thorn laughed. ‘Come now, please. I’m aware some of the marines call me that, but I would ask that you do me the favour of not mentioning it in my company. Still, maybe we should give the c
rowd what they want. I wouldn’t like to appear rude.’

  She extended a hand, and a marine helped her down from the throne.

  ‘You shall accompany me, I hope?’ she said to Keir.

  He took a breath. ‘It would be my honour.’

  They made their way back along the passageway, with maids helping to lift Thorn’s flowing robes, and then assisting her up the narrow steps. Keir followed, with Acorn and the sergeant.

  ‘What in Pyre’s name was that all about?’ the sergeant whispered to him. ‘I know she’s good-looking, but come on; you’re the stormwitch, do you want her to think you’re a wee boy?’

  He glared at her.

  ‘That was painful to watch,’ said Acorn, ‘but I’ve seen boys behave like that around my sister before. The problem is, that she never respects guys that act that way.’

  ‘I thought you two were supposed to be helping me,’ he said.

  The sergeant slapped him on the back as they started to ascend the steps. ‘Be confident, lad. You saved the fucking town, just remember that.’

  ‘The people here love you,’ said Acorn, nodding. ‘Just be yourself.’

  Keir frowned. Where was Kelsey when he needed her? He reached the top of the stairs to find Thorn waiting for him.

  ‘Are you ready?’ she said, glancing up at him.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I think perhaps it would be a good idea for the people to see that we are united in purpose,’ she said, holding out her hand.

  He took it, feeling the touch of her fingers against his. He took a deep breath as his heart began to race again.

  ‘I’m nervous too,’ she whispered as the door opened, letting the sunlight flood into the hallway.

  She squeezed his hand, and they walked outside onto the deck. The marines were lined up in a guard of honour, and the two mages walked hand in hand to the side of the ship, where an almighty roar reached them from the crowd. Thorn and Keir raised their joined hands, and the volume of noise crashed against them.